


Worth Fighting For

by NamelesslyNightlock, Rabentochter



Series: This Was A Bad Idea (but we know what we're doing) [25]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, BAMF Loki (Marvel), BAMF Tony Stark, Difficult Decisions, Established Relationship, Feels, Forbidden Love, Gun Violence, Happy Ending, Injury, Loyalty, M/M, Mild Blood, Protective Tony Stark, Secret Relationship, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Feels, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:08:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23451466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabentochter/pseuds/Rabentochter
Summary: How can Tony choose between one vow and another? Between his love for his country, and… his love for the one who had shown him what lovemeant?
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Series: This Was A Bad Idea (but we know what we're doing) [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1388356
Comments: 22
Kudos: 225





	Worth Fighting For

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AshAndSnow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshAndSnow/gifts).



> HAPPPY BIRTHDAY LISA YOU'RE AMAZING AND WE LOVE YOU AND WE HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY 🎉❤️

Tony felt like his heart was in his mouth, the solid, aching beat of it making him feel sick. It wasn’t a feeling that he was familiar with– usually, in a situation of no hope, his body sung the sweet tune of readiness as adrenaline flooded his veins.

Usually, Tony _bathed_ in danger.

He had to, after all– one could not possibly survive covert operations in this day and age, with the two superpowers of the world at each other’s throats. Teeth were bared, claws were scratching at skin, and without people like Tony it might have already broken into a full-scale, out-in-the-open, hot-blooded _war._

But for now, the fighting remained in the shadows, usually taking the form of subterfuge but sometimes leaking into short bursts of violence when people from each side clashed together in the dark. Those bursts, however, were often over quickly and rarely left a mark.

This, however?

This… was something else.

Tony had received a lead from their deep cover agent, letting them know that one of the other side’s best was trying to infiltrate a top-secret facility in an undercover role of his own.

It might have been the kind of thing Tony would be excited to receive had he not – from two lines of description alone – immediately known _which_ agent it was.

He’d done everything in his power to try and prevent this outcome, _everything_ that he could. But when there are a hundred thousand moving pieces in a machine, a single part can only do so much—

And now… here they were.

Two dozen agents, all armed to the teeth. Every one of them ready to die for their country, every one of them more than prepared to kill for the same.

And standing opposite them… was the agent Tony knew only as _Loki_.

Not that his name should truly matter, as he was the kind of man who could be anyone at all. His accent changed as easily as his expression, his green eyes more expressive and yet still more crystal-hard than any Tony had ever seen before. He could melt into a crowd so effectively he seemed to disappear, and yet when issuing threats he cut an incredibly impressive figure. Loki was a clash of contradictions, an impossible blend of opposing forces—

So, really.

It was only natural that Tony had gone and fallen in love with him.

They’d both been undercover when it happened, neither knowing who the other was until it was far too late– until they were in too deep to walk away.

But Tony had sworn a vow, he’d already sold his soul to his country. And when the two most intrinsic pieces of himself were in perfect opposition, he spent most of his life feeling like he was being torn in two.

His love for his country, or his love for the person who had shown him what love _meant._

How was he supposed to make that choice?

“Sir.”

Tony barely turned his head, not able to tear his gaze from Loki’s.

As always, Loki’s expression was brimming with a layer of emotion underneath that which he wanted everyone to see. There was acceptance mixed in with the determined stare– and it was clear Loki _knew_ that he wouldn’t be able to get out of this. He knew what Tony was going to have to do.

Because, with three dozen agents at his side and Loki entirely surrounded, there _wasn’t_ a choice at all.

There was not one, single thing that Tony could do. Loki was an enemy agent, caught in well designed trap. And no matter how much Tony didn’t want to, no matter how much control it was currently taking to stop his hand from shaking as he kept his gun trained on Loki’s heart, he knew there was no way that he could—

But he shouldn’t even be _thinking—_

“Sir, you need to give the order.”

Tony didn’t need to. He _knew_ he didn’t, that the only reason the others were waiting was out of courtesy, and the knowledge that there was no _way_ for their quarry to escape.

Loki had his own gun in hand, the muzzle of it flicking from man to man– but he wouldn’t be able to kill more than one of them before thirty bullets slammed into his flesh.

“ _Sir.”_

It wouldn’t be more than a moment before they all fired anyway, before—

The first shot cut through the air with the same kind of harshness as lightning, the sound of it a crack of thunder that pierced right through to Tony’s bones. His whole body jerked, the pain of it a lance that burned as surely as if the bullet had hit _him._

The lump in his throat turned to bile, but—

He blinked, cleared his gaze, forced his focus to reset.

Loki had somehow managed the impossible, turning to the side so that the bullet had slipped just past his shoulder and struck a man stood behind him instead.

The man that lay dead was one of Tony’s, blood already pooling from a wound in his chest.

Tony let out a breath that was both utter relief and burning, _sickening_ anticipation, for—

Loki’s own gun was rising, the burning green of his eyes unyielding.

They’d all realised the same thing—

For perhaps, Loki’s position was not as impossible as they had come to think. If he were fired upon and a _single_ bullet missed, it would likely find its mark in the flesh of one of Tony’s countrymen.

But, of course—

That did not mean that any of them were prepared to back down.

Tony could feel his every heartbeat, he could hear his every breath– each one a countdown to a fate he could not escape. Loki’s gaze met his once more, a sad smile curling at his lips. Then those green eyes followed the line of his gun, and—

There’s one thing that Tony never quite got used to, no matter how long he spent as an operative– and that was the fact that the smell of gunpower is almost as sharp as the sound. It burns in your nose, harsh and metallic, making the world feel just that little bit colder.

And as the air burned with the stench of it, as the cacophony in his ears faded from sharp cracks to a piercing, painful whistle—

Tony’s back slammed against Loki’s, and his bullets joined the flurry in the air.

The other agents didn’t stop, of course they didn’t. They were trained to do their job, and they wouldn’t stop for anything. It was _Tony_ who was breaking all the rules, and such a betrayal was hardly enough to affect the minds of his countrymen.

They weren’t going to hesitate—

And neither was Tony.

There was no time for second guessing, no time for changing a decision that he couldn’t even remember making. The cold trigger cut into his finger as he fired round after round, the sharp pain an unneeded reminder of what it was he was doing. But his actions were almost mindless, beyond the knowing that he couldn’t stand by while they killed Loki, while they cut down the one person that made Tony capable of standing tall.

Fuck his orders, fuck his superiors, and fuck his fucking _country._

He knew what was important, he knew what mattered– and he was damn well going to fucking _fight_ for it.

No matter the inevitable cost.

Bullets slammed into his chest, destroying the front of his suit and lodging in the vest he always wore beneath the expensive clothes. He grunted as he took a hit to the shoulder but he refused to lose his ground, leaning back against Loki for a moment before ducking under his partner’s arm to fire a shot in the other direction. Loki had turned to fire over Tony’s shoulder, the pair of them all but dancing together, knowing the other’s movements so intimately that they hardly had to even think, despite having never fought this way before.

“Anthony,” Loki shouted, his words barely heard over the noise. “What in the name of god are you—”

“Just, shut up Loki, now’s not the time—”

“But now might be the only—”

“Just fucking _cover me—”_

Then Tony felt a bullet catch his temple, enough to send his head snapping backward and slamming into Loki’s skull—

Loki gasped, lost his footing– then he cried out and fell to one knee, though his hand never fell.

Tony needed to reload, but with Loki down he didn’t have the time—

But they’d managed to make their way almost to the wall, almost to the electronically-deadlocked door, and there were more than a few bodies strewn on the ground– just as likely to have been hit by friendly fire than they had been by Loki or Tony.

Tony grabbed a slippery weapon from one of them– he didn’t even know the man’s name, beyond his callsign. He knew far less about him than he did Loki. But the gun was familiar enough in his hand, and as he gripped Loki by the arm to try and pull him back up – injured or not, they didn’t have a _choice_ but to keep on going – he resumed fire upon the men and women who only moments before had been on his side.

Getting to the door had been their only chance, and yet in trying to do so, the pair of once opposing agents had only put themselves in an even worse position. For now there was no reason for the other agents to take careful aim, no reason for them to hold back from unrestrained fire.

Tony knew the odds he and Loki had faced– he _knew_ the only reason they were still alive was the others’ reluctance to massively deplete their own forces. In that way, at least, their numbers had worked against them.

But now, with Tony and Loki caught between the wall and the line of guns—

There was no reason for the agents to hold back at all.

Almost as one they raised their guns, a line of cold metal that would deliver death just as surely as a firing squad. Loki was still on the ground, his leg bloodied, his hand slipping in blood on the floor as he tried to lever himself back upright.

Tony shifted to stand in front of him, and held his stolen gun steady with both hands.

Not a word was exchanged. Not a single flicker of expression. Both sides were calm and cold, both sides knowing the hard truth as Tony’s time came to an end—

“ _Stop!”_

It was something of a miracle that the voice was even heard, if such a thing could be applied to a man such as the Director. Tony hadn’t known that this was where Fury was currently based, though he supposed it made sense– such an important base would account for such a swift and substantial force being used to remove Loki from its walls.

As he approached, the remaining agents parted like the Red Sea, seamlessly shifting out of the way so that Fury came to stand between Tony and his firing squad unhindered.

“Agent Stark,” Fury said, his gruff voice filled with more distaste than Tony had ever heard– and to be honest, where Fury was concerned that really was something. However, there was also a touch of curiosity in his tone which Tony found rather… _interesting._ “I am not going to insult us both by asking if you know what it is that you have done.”

“Good,” Tony said, his own voice sounding rather strange in the silence after such a burst of sheer noise. “Then you know that you also don’t need to ask whether I _regret_ it.”

Tony heard a movement behind him, but he didn’t dare turn. Instead, he splashed his expression with an ugly grin, shifted his grip on his gun, and he made damn fucking _sure_ Fury didn’t look away.

Fury didn’t look impressed– but his brow furrowed into a frown that was not borne only of contempt, Tony was sure of it. Some of it was _curiosity._

That, of course, was more worrying than anything, and Tony shifted to stand more in front of his partner, still keeping Fury focused.

“This insurgent obtained no intelligence, he damaged nothing, he _gained_ nothing,” he said.

“He killed several of our top operatives—”

“Well, the operatives were killing themselves, really. You should probably update your training program.”

Fury didn’t reply to that, but from the set of his lips, Tony could imagine what it was that he was thinking.

_You say that like you’re not one of us._

And Tony realised… the truth of it didn’t hurt him. Not really, not the way it should have.

“Stark,” Fury sighed, sounding almost _tired._ “You are a traitor to your country, a traitor to your _people—”_

“At least,” Tony said, lifting his chin, “I am not a traitor to _myself.”_

Fury considered him for a moment, his dark eye far more unreadable than Loki’s ever had been. At least to Tony.

“I do not know what you’re asking, but you must know that I cannot let you go,” Fury said. The agents responded immediately, raising their weapons—

And Tony was about to prepare for another fight, but– then, behind him, he heard the familiar sound of an electronic lock.

“That’s okay,” Tony said, finally letting his gun drop just an _inch,_ taking a step back. “I didn’t need you to _let_ us go _._ I just needed you distracted.”

The door opened, Fury’s expression glowed with– well, surely Tony didn’t actually have to say it—

But none of that _mattered,_ because he and Loki fell through the door and slammed it shut behind them.

And oh, it wasn’t _easy_ after that. It was a race against time to get out of the base, to get _away_ while Loki’s skin grew paler every moment as more and more blood poured from the wound in his leg. It was a race against the two most dangerous agencies in the _world,_ to stay free as they forged a safe space on the other side of the planet, in a neutral country where no one would be able to find them.

Oh no, it certainly wasn’t _easy,_ but by god did they get it done. They both had the skillset, they both had the means– and perhaps most significantly, they both had the _will._

Because more than they wanted to fight in the silent war, more than they wanted to further the desires of those in charge of their countries—

More than anything, they wanted to be together.

And above all else, _that_ was a cause they were willing to fight for.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find the art for this fic on tumblr [here.](https://rabentochter.tumblr.com/post/614323876917329920/worth-fighting-for-with-quietlyapocalyptic)


End file.
